


Undisclosed Desires

by SmolbiWanCannoli



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dirty Talk, Humiliation kink, Inappropriate Use of Lightsabers (Star Wars), Light Dom/sub, Lightsaber Used as a Sex Toy (Star Wars), M/M, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Slut Shaming, Submissive Obi-Wan Kenobi, Voyeurism, mentions of gangbangs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolbiWanCannoli/pseuds/SmolbiWanCannoli
Summary: In which Obi-Wan has been hot and bothered ever since his troopers got him to wear a collar, and he attempts to take matters into his own hands one night despite his gnawing insecurities and vulnerable headspace.Until, of course, Cody conveniently walks in on him in quite the compromising position.
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Clone Trooper Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 321
Collections: SubObi Weeks





	Undisclosed Desires

**Author's Note:**

> "You trick your lovers  
> That you're wicked and divine  
> You may be a sinner  
> But your innocence is mine
> 
> Please me, show me how it's done  
> Tease me, you are the one"

Almost dragging his feet across the floor, Obi-Wan collapsed facedown onto his hard bed aboard The Negotiator and muttered tiredly to himself.

As he stretched his aching body, he was distracted yet again by the slight tugging on his neck, reminding him once more of the slim collar secured around his throat. A simple white leather adorned with an orange pendant that he kept hidden underneath his copious layers of jedi robes. A symbol and a reminder of his belonging to the troopers of the 212th attack battalion.

They had gifted him the collar a few weeks ago, yet Obi-Wan still couldn’t get over the novelty of it. It still drove him mad with need.

His clones loved the thought of their general, their _jetti_ , doing his duties, leading them through _battles_ , and attending council meetings as normal, except for the fact that he constantly had their claim on him fastened snugly around his neck. Sometimes, if they were feeling particularly dissatisfied about his recklessness or proclivity for flirting with the enemy, they liked to tighten the collar so that it dug into the delicate skin of his neck. It served as a warning and as a reminder of who he belonged to. A promise of what’s to come should he fail to keep himself in check.

Obi-Wan’s wayward thoughts returned to the present moment and he realized he was gently, reverently fondling the collar and languidly rocking his hips into the bedding. He flushed in embarrassment at his own neediness and cleared his throat awkwardly, even though he was alone in his small quarters and – thankfully – no one was witnessing his inappropriate display.

Despite the increasing frequency of his bedroom activities with the clones, he was still shy and insecure about his desire. That is, until they fucked the guilt and shame out of him, leaving him with naught but the feeling of their satisfaction and approval radiating in the Force – a heady concoction that seldom failed to get him riled up again.

Obi-Wan undressed himself and slipped into an oversized tunic that served as a makeshift nightgown. He groaned upon glancing down and seeing the slight tent stubbornly pushing against the fabric of his tunic: his dick was not planning on going down anytime soon.

 _You’d think a fully trained jedi master would be more than capable of controlling his body and emotions_ , Obi-Wan thought self-deprecatingly.

He contemplated working on his pending council report as a means of distraction…

Any half-hearted resolve he had of being prim and proper soon crumpled, however, and Obi-Wan huffed as he hiked his tunic up over the curve of his ass and summoned the half-empty bottle of lube into his awaiting hand.

He placed the stiff pillow under his hips and spread his legs wide, allowing himself easier access with minimal discomfort. Burying his flushed face into the crook of his free arm, Obi-Wan rubbed at his hole with slick fingertips, teasing himself until the muscle relaxed and his hips unconsciously pushed back against his own ministrations.

Obi-Wan pressed a slender finger into his hole, and, unable to resist, added another one moments later. He ground them into his ass and made a screwing motion with his wrist, the resulting flare of pain making him moan loudly. He repeated the motion until his inner walls felt loosened up and pliant. Then he began finger-fucking himself in earnest, biting at his sleeve to muffle the worst of his noises.

As he spread his legs even wider and rode his fingers eagerly, Obi-Wan stared unseeingly at the grey steel walls in front of him. He spluttered and whimpered and brought his free hand up to caress his beloved collar. He wanted it tighter. Wanted it to dig into his flesh and leave a mark on the pale, soft skin of his throat.

What would his men think if they saw the needy creature he’d reduced himself to? A mean little voice in his currently vulnerable mind whispered that they’d be disappointed to have a weak-minded general such as himself. That they’d ridicule him for his desperation behind his back after indulging him to his face. Obi-Wan scrunched his eyes shut and his heart clenched painfully at the thought. He whimpered, shaking his head, “No. No, they w-want me too. I feel it–”

He finally found his prostate when he was three fingers deep, and as he persistently rubbed his digits just there, his thighs began to spasm and his belly tightened. He whined needily between panting breaths, beads of sweat trickling down his temple.

Obi-Wan mumbled brokenly as he imagined the things they’d do to him if they were here right now. Waxer would grab his golden, reddish locks and yank his head back to look into his tearful eyes with his own intense ones. Boil would spank him, raining sharp, relentless slaps all over his ass until it reddened and bruised and Obi-Wan was sobbing with the humiliation of it. And then when he was gagging for it, Cody would sink his cock into his wet hole and pound his ass mercilessly, whilst Longshot simultaneously used his throat. Maybe they’d tell him what a perfect little toy he was for them, as his little orange pendant wriggled from its attachment point with the force of their thrusts. But even then, Obi-Wan was a good slut; he’d beg them for more, harder, and faster, to use him as they saw fit, and they’d taunt him about his desperate need to please.

Vaguely, Obi-Wan heard his comlink beep, but he couldn’t possibly be expected to pay it any mind when he was riding his own fingers and rubbing his weeping cock into the pillow under him. No, he couldn’t think of anything except his need for something thicker and longer to spread his hole on.

Obi-Wan needed to be dominated.

He withdrew his sore fingers from his hole and reached out towards the nightstand to grasp his lightsaber hilt. Was he desperate and depraved enough to attempt this? Yes. Yes, he was.

Obi-Wan turned the weapon down to the lowest power, just to be safe, and greased up the hilt. With the help of the Force, he manipulated the inactivated blade to stand firmly on the hard surface of his bed. He choked down a sob as he reached behind himself to stabilize the hilt, slowly lowering himself onto the intricately designed shaft. Halfway down its length, Obi-Wan halted and experimentally squeezed around the girth of it, gasping wetly at the foreign sensation. Force, what was he doing?

Mere minutes later, however, Obi-Wan was fully into the novel experience and bouncing on his own hilt, taking as much of it into his ass as he could as his wild hair flew about and stuck to his sweaty face.

His heart dropped when, suddenly, the loud hissing sound of a door sliding open filled the room, indicating that someone who knew his entry code was coming in and–

“General, you weren’t answering your comlink and I–”

Obi-Wan’s eyes clenched shut in humiliation as Cody abruptly cut himself off at the sight before him.

“–tried knocking.” He finished his sentence dazedly, penetrating gaze roaming over the exposed skin and hardening at the familiar ‘saber hilt buried deep inside Obi-Wan’s round ass.

“C-Cody–”

“Don’t stop on my account.” Cody snarled as he prowled closer to Obi-Wan, like a wolf would an unsuspecting rabbit. But instead of approaching the bed, he pulled Obi-Wan’s chair out of his desk and turned it to face his whorish little jedi. He sat down and spread his legs apart, slowly working his cock out of his blacks with an expectant look and a lazy, haughty grin.

Obi-Wan’s eyes glazed over and his breath hitched when he realized what was happening.

Cody wanted him to put on a show.

He pushed his face into the mattress, sensually arched his back and raised his ass in the air, using his free hand to spread his cheeks apart – just how Cody liked him – and resumed fucking himself with the hilt.

“So this is what you’ve been up to,” Cody said quietly as he fisted his own cock, watching Obi-Wan hungrily, “I was worried you were overworking yourself again after returning to your quarters. I came here to personally toss you into bed and make you sleep, but…” Cody’s eyes darkened, “you were busy being a needy little bitch instead.”

Obi-Wan mewled, arching his back further and wiggling his ass onto the handle of his lightsaber, wanting Cody to see just how good he could be. “Please, Cody, _alor_ , let me have your cock instead?”

Cody chuckled, but the hand around his cock stroked faster, “You beg so sweetly. Get over here.”

Obi-Wan pulled the lightsaber out of his hole with a wet _pop_ and stumbled towards Cody, his legs shaking too hard to support his usual catfooted gait. He let himself flop on the welcoming lap as Cody held his hips protectively, lest the disoriented _jetti_ fell off.

They silently stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, or an eternity. And then–

“Fuck yourself on my deece the way you did with that lightsaber of yours.”

Obi-Wan stifled a borderline hysterical giggle at the wordplay– he did not need to be told twice. He rested his hands delicately on Cody’s broad shoulders as his lover held his own cock steady for him, one big hand still on a supple hip. Slowly, Obi-Wan sunk down onto the girthy shaft and whined loudly as it filled him to the brim, mouth hanging open and panting like a bitch in heat. Cody told him as much.

Cody grunted and reached up to gently touch Obi-Wan’s collar, fingers stroking over the golden buckle that secured the leather ‘round the jedi’s neck. He tugged on the collar to get Obi-Wan’s – who was otherwise too far gone – attention, and said, “You’re ours, aren’t you, General? Our own slutty little jedi.”

Obi-Wan moaned and nodded his head rapidly, “Yours, Cody, only yours,” then he added meekly, “for as long as you want me.”

Cody held the vulnerable jedi close to his chest, a muscled arm possessively encircling the slim waist and a calloused hand in the unbelievably soft, rumpled hair, rubbing Obi-Wan’s scalp soothingly and sending pleasant tingles down the jedi’s spine.

“We’ll always want you. Our precious general. Our precious Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan whimpered pathetically and his spasming legs finally gave out under the strain of riding Cody’s cock after having ridden both his fingers and his lightsaber. He wrapped his arms tightly around Cody’s neck and clung to him, heated face nestling into the warmth of that neck.

Cody, not relinquishing his tender hold on Obi-Wan, spread his legs wider for leverage to fuck up into the sloppy, well-used hole.

“That’s it, Obi-Wan. Just lean on me and take it. Take my cock.”

Obi-Wan’s garbled moan was his only response, and despite wanting to dutifully squeeze his hole around the stiff cock and milk it dry, he willed his body to relax against Cody’s own. For his hole to go slack around the pistoning cock.

He was nothing more than a warm hole to fuck, and that’s all he needed to be, for now.

Cody growled approvingly.

“There’s my good whore.”


End file.
